


Mama!

by 1800areyouslapping



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Breeding, F/M, Naga!Hanzo, Oviposition, Pseudo-Incest, Rape/Non-con Elements, Teratophilia, naga!genji, olderfemale!reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 08:17:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16082153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1800areyouslapping/pseuds/1800areyouslapping
Summary: You're a woman who stumbled upon two lost naga boys. After raising them for a brief time, they move out and come to full maturity in a cave in the forest behind your home.





	Mama!

As a little girl, you were the type to run off into the neighboring woods and come back with a wounded animal or two, much to your parent’s dismay. A dog; a homeless kitten you were permitted to keep. One time it was a turtle you found on the sidewalk in town. He lived in your backyard’s pond until the day came when he just wasn’t there anymore. Another time, a lost baby duck in the middle of the road, nearly run over by a car. Your mother called a local wildlife conservation group to come and pick the poor thing up. It couldn’t live with you, mother had said, the cat would tear it to shreds.  

You loved taking care of them, mothering the motherless. Giving love, and feeling needed.

In your mid-twenties, you inherited your childhood home on the edge of the woods (father died of a heart attack, mother succumbed to cancer.) During your grief, you came across two of the most precious, mythical creatures. Both of whom needed your motherly love more than any helpless creature you’d ever stumbled across. Two naga boys. Brothers who lingered around your home, stealing yard ornaments, sneaking in through the doggy door to take food.

You “caught” them one night. To your great suspicion, your instincts told you the boys wanted to be caught. They lingered at the edge of your bed, peaked over the mountains of blankets, watching you sleep. You’re not sure what it was that kept you calm. You didn’t scream, didn’t kick nor fight. Whether it was the numbness from loss, or your overwhelming urge to coddle, to mother, to feel loved; the two adolescent boys with human torsos and lower halves of snakes didn’t scare you. You hardly questioned their existence in your universe.

The older one, Hanzo. The younger one, Genji. They had lost their parents just as you had lost yours. They had nothing to fear from you, they latched on the right sap.

You raised them; watched them grow; they were your world. And boy, did they grow. Grow and grow ‘til your little home couldn’t accommodate them anymore. Not that it ever properly housed two nagas; you would come to accept that they needed your loving nurturing, your babying, your presence more than your roof or your food; they much preferred hunting wild animals. They turned from baby-faced teenagers into sharp-featured, stunning, otherworldly creatures within the blink of an eye. Handsome boys; your boys.  

Grumpy Hanzo with his perfectly kept beard, and his man bun fade; you caught him preening all the time. He loved getting caught, you knew this. Because that meant you’d come and do the preening for him. Casanova Genji, he would have broken hearts if there were any around to break with his charming, hypnotizing smile, and his unruly hair; you had to beg him to sit still, and had to wrangle the boy every time he needed a trim.  

Both of them with their unique shimmering, long, and powerful tails. Hanzo’s dark blue, Genji’s a forest green. The first time you bathed them you found that their scales responded to touch; they changed colors. From sea greens, to light purples, shiny golds, rich silvers, and even hints of pink on occasions. Both of them with their fine, soft mains that line their tails from the small of their back all the way to the tip of their body, fanning out. The hair was always a favorite of yours to comb and run your fingers through.  

Rasing them into adulthood was no easy task. They were territorial from the moment they accepted you as their mother. No neighbors pet was safe (no matter how far their homes might have been from yours), they all ended up dead, toyed with, and eaten. Their remains, in your yard. You chided them for hunting the animals, they continued to do it. You wrote it off as something that was in their nature, there was nothing you could do to change it.

They would also steal things. They’d sneak into their homes and bring you back gifts, leaving them at the foot of your bed for you to find in the morning. Before they’d grow out of stealing and pilfering household pets many of your neighbors would move, stating they no longer felt safe living near the forest.

“Today it’s a necklace, tomorrow it’s dear old fluffy from down the street,” a former resident had gripped to you. He dropped by before he took his family and left, an oddly traditional fellow. He shook his head, placed both hands on his hips. He had no idea you were harboring the source of the problem. “The next day? It’ll be one of my kids going missin’.” He looked distastefully at the forest. “Somethin’ sinister’s made a home in there.” 

You forced a smile, wished him well. Tried not to let the offense you took from his words spill out of your mouth. You felt protective, ready to verbally tear his head off. They didn’t know any better, would never hurt a human.

They longed to stay with you, but it was in their nature to find a cave and make a nest for themselves in the woods. A treasure trove in the woods. Luxuriously made up, every time you visited they had new things. More blankets, more oils, more trinkets, more jewelry. You questioned where exactly they got their things from. They would state that perhaps your ignorance was for your own good.  

Turned out they hadn’t grown out of the petty theft after all.

They were always less active during the fall, nearly slept all day by the fireplace in the winter. When they grew out of your home, you’d check up on them in their den to find them curled around the natural hot spring located deeper inside of the cave. Woe is the life of a cold-blooded creature.

Another winter has just passed; cold and long. It’s the first spring day where the rise in temperature is noticeable. Bees are buzzing around your garden. Birds incessantly chirping trying to entice mates. You have a good feeling the boys will be up and about, lively as they ever are at the start of spring, and will be expecting you. You’re shocked they haven’t shown up at your doorstep yet, each dragging along the corpse of their fresh spring kill.

You know the way to their den by heart, naturally finding the entrance shrouded by vines and moss in no time. You enter, you know you’re welcome, careful not to slip on the dewy rock underfoot. There’s murmuring coming from deep inside the cave. You walk forward finding the boys lounging in the hot spring, rather than around it, deep in conversation with one another.

Genji notices you first. His attention whips to you. He slithers quickly out of the water. So swift you can barely comprehend his movements. He gasps. “Mama!” Genji exclaims. He grabs your shoulders, kisses your cheek deeply. “We were just speaking of you.”

He rears up. Stands tall, towering over you. Water rolls down his chest, his hair is messy with it. You’d like him to get back down to your level so you can tidy it. “Were you?” You look around Genji to Hanzo, who looks perturbed for what reason you don’t know yet. With him, it could be anything. “Sweetie, how was your hibernation? Each time I trekked for a checkup the both of you were too out of it to even acknowledge I visited.”  

Neither of them answer. Genji searches your face, his tail flitting back and forth wildly. Restless, like he needs to blow off steam. Hanzo continues to stare, his own tail doing the same thing across the service of the steaming water, mouth in a hard line. Something is… off.  

“You smelled of a man,” Hanzo says. “You still smell of that man.” 

Your mouth drops open. That sounded like an accusation. “A-and?” You look up to Genji, shrug your shoulders. “I was lonely.” You reach out to brush your hand over his arm. “I didn’t have my boys to keep me company.”

You’re not sure why you find yourself explaining. Telling them that he’s a nice man, who could fulfill needs they aren’t responsible for. You think that one day he may even be trusted enough to be introduced to them. It’s the vibe they’re giving off, the same kind of vibe they’d bring back with them after they had slaughtered yet another beloved pet, and laid it at your feet.

“It is as we thought,” Hanzo says. He emerges from the water. Is at your back faster then Genji was at your front.  

Genji nods in agreement, his tail whips faster. His energy is giving you a fleeting feeling in your belly. Hanzo places a hand on your shoulder, instinctively you place your own hand over his. “You’ll always be my special boys, no matter who else comes into my life,” you reason. Hanzo’s grip tightens; your heart races.  

Genji’s eyes brighten as if he has the solution to the unspoken problem. “There is no need for anyone else.” He eyes your body, his hand trails down his front. His cloaca opens slightly, his sexes peaking. Your breath catches in your chest, you understand now. The aura in the room, the cave is thick with a sexual charge. They’re fully mature now, and it’s mating season.

You pat Hanzo’s hand. “What you’re feeling is natural, but,” you shake your head regrettably, “I can’t help you with this.” You feel sorry for them. You’ve never seen another naga, and you haven’t the slightest idea of how they could satisfy their urges without another one around.

“You can,” Hanzo says. His grip tightens. His hard body presses against your back. “You fulfilled your role as our mother to perfection, now you will be just as good a one to our clutch.”

“No, no.” You attempt to pry his hand from your shoulder. His fingers are digging. It is unwise for you to remain here. “I should go,” you say. 

Genji reaches out, cups your face. His cocks pop out, one smaller, one bigger, both symmetrical to his size. Hanzo’s do the same. Pressing hot against your back, leaking on your shirt, the wetness sliding down your spine. You shiver, smack Genji’s hand away, and tear your shoulder from Hanzo’s grip.

“That’s enough,” you demand, mustering all the motherly authority you have in your body. “Put those things way, you can’t mate with me.” You’d argue that they shouldn’t be mating the same person either, but you don’t feel that the reminder that they are -brothers- matters much at this moment.  

“But we can,” Genji says with earnest. “Our birth mother was human.” 

Your eyes glass over, you’re dizzy. You’ve never been frightened of them before. Now that they’re crowding you, they smell of sweat and hormones. Their primal instincts have taken over their sound minds… the back of your shirt is soaked. You’re scared. Their feelings are misplaced, and not because they’re naga, but because you are you and they are who they are.

Out of all the times they had spoken of their parents they never once mentioned their mother being human. You feel a jarring pang of resentment from this. What else have they been keeping from you? “Well,” you gulp, bring a shaky hand to your chest, “I said no, and that’s the end of it.”

You try to slip out from between them. You can’t believe you’re going to run but you are. You’ll never receive the chance. Hanzo scoops you up. Effortless, one arm wrapped around your waist. White-hot pain surges through your shoulder, brief, it’s gone in an instant. Not even enough time to scream before your limbs are falling limp, useless to your sides. Your toes droop, pointed towards the floor, your head lolls to the side.

“Hanzo,” you whimper. He licks languidly at the bite. His fangs may be pointy and sharp, but he didn’t tear, didn’t writhe his head like he does when he bites into the prey that he means to eat. You’re not bleeding too badly, the wound isn’t fatal. His venom paralyzes, it doesn’t kill. 

Now you’re a weeping, living doll at their mercy. This isn’t the first time you’ve been bitten by one of them. The first time it was Genji, he was young. He was playing with you and got too rowdy. He bit you, instantly falling into a sobbing mess when you screamed and clutched your arm in pain. He didn’t know any better; they… still don’t know any better…. he wasn’t fully grown so the venom took longer do its job.

You fell to the floor in your kitchen just short of getting to the phone. The analog clock shined brightly. You watched the minutes tick by while Genji cuddled and sobbed into your neck, blubbering about how Hanzo would rip him apart when he found out he had killed mama, and he’d let him. He wanted to die, he didn’t want to live without you. You found the sentiment to be rather melodramatic, if you could have laughed it off, you would have. Now seeing the lengths they are willing to go to keep you to themselves, you realize that their feelings really do run that deep.  

Hanzo holds you, Genji removes your clothes. Piece by piece it all falls to the floor ‘til you’re bare, and there’s not a thing you can do about the chagrin you feel from being utterly exposed in front of your boys. They explore your body with unabashed interest. Groping, tugging, caressing. Praising the softness of your skin, marveled by the bumps that raise from their touch.  

“Humans kiss with their tounges,” Genji says. They are no strangers to how human sex works or physical human affections. You never bothered to police what they consumed through media. Never monitored their internet time. While this is the first contact they’ve had with a female body (to your knowledge) they’re not totally ignorant. Regardless, something tells you that instinct is going to be a greater teacher than anything they ever found on the internet.

Genji lifts your chin with a finger. Kisses you once, testing. Kisses you again; slips his tongue into your mouth. He reaches further inside, exploring just as he did your body. He breaches the back of your throat. You gag. You can’t breathe, fantom limbs reach out to push Genji away. He realizes this and withdraws his tongue. He pets your face apologetically. “Sorry, sorry.”  

The venom doesn’t wholly inhibit your ability to speak but does make it a daunting task that takes far more concentration than it usually would. Thank God, because you probably would have told him it was okay.

Hanzo curls his tail into a seat, places you in it, holding you upright with the thinnest part of his tail wrapped tightly around your waist. He spreads your legs so they can explore more. Genji looks, while Hanzo continues to open you up. Using curious, rough fingers to spread your folds and prod at both of your holes. Commenting on your warmth and how the smell of you makes his stomach tighten and his cocks throb.

Your skin tingles all over, your face is hot. You’re paralyzed, not numb. Can feel every touch, every bit of Genji’s fevered breath as he lowers himself and hovers over your pussy, tongue flicking out to lap at your labia. Hanzo’s powerful chest. His stomach muscles flex and ripple against your back. The solid muscle that is his tail under your thighs; the cool, smooth scales that protect it. His erections twitching and leaking, sticky against your bare skin.

Hanzo licks along the shell of your ear. Hums when you moan: a strangled sound. Genji decided to explore your sex the way he explored your mouth, reaching much farther than he was able to go in your throat. “Feels good?” Hanzo questions. “Do you see now, mama? We can fulfill your every need.”

You don’t want to see, eyelids stuck open in a perpetual stare, you have no choice. Genji looks serene down between your legs. The widest part of his tongue disappears between your slit. His wet lips meet the wet folds of your pussy. The long, slick muscle writhes and circles around your insides. It isn’t physically painful, what they’re doing to you. That doesn’t change the shame; this isn’t right. Doesn’t change the betrayal of trust that keeps a steady flow of tears streaming down your face.

But your tumultuous feelings also doesn’t change that it  _-_ does _-_  feel good. The venom forces you to relax; forces you to hard focus on the sensations running rapidly through your body. Hanzo’s curious tongue and soft lips on your neck. His low, gruff grunts. The scent permeating your nose that is so distinctly male. The frustrating pressure in your belly. Genji’s merely enjoying his time, there’s no finesse to his method, without meaning to he’s keeping you on the edge.  

Your clit pulses, crying out for attention that it won’t be getting. Genji retreats his tongue, buries his nose into your folds and breaths deeply. Keeps doing so all the way up to your belly, eyes shut tight, completely immersed in your scent. He opens his eyes and he gazes up at you wistfully, drunk and happy. “Mama, you are so pretty,” he sniffs again, nuzzling his face into the soft parts of your lower tummy, “smell so good, you are perfection.”    

Genji backs off with a delighted smile.  

Hanzo drapes you on your back over the midsection of his tail, supports your neck by curling the thinnest part around it. Hanzo holds your hips steady with a bruising grip, presses the tip of his smaller cock to your entrance and sinks in. He hisses out of pleasure, the apples of his cheeks flaming red. Hanzo’s thicker, longer length slides between your cheeks, pokes into your back. You almost mustered up the strength to request that he take it slow. It’s too late now.

The stretch burned enough to pull the air from your lungs; but you’re wet, he’s messing your walls with precum, so you adjust quickly. Hanzo doesn’t thrust, rather moves you up and down on his cock. Taking more of him each time ‘til he’s pressuring your cervix, opening it a little more with each jab.

He’s priming you to accept his clutch. At first, you wince at the foreign feeling. Then you start to feel high, thoughts swimming, a rush of endorphins coursing through your veins. His seed is doing something to your womb. Numbing it, turning it into a tingly heating pad within your body.

Hanzo’s eyes smolder, bear longing. Even as he has you in the exact way that he desires you. He bounces you, fully seated, on his cock. Faster and faster ‘til your heels are bouncing steadily off of his sides, lewd, wet slaps echo off the walls of the cave, your arms swinging deadweight. The frustrating pressure that Genji left in your belly finally comes to fruition. You cum, and so does Hanzo. Thick, healthy ropes of it, so much it seeps and spills from your body.  

The room spins, your vision blurs. The exchange between his two cocks is near unnoticeable. Only when he hisses, long and drawn out, his fingers dig painfully into your hips, and the first egg stretches you wider, do you realize he made the exchange. The egg moves at a snail’s pace through your canal. Bulges through your pubic mound, lower tummy, and disappears when it finally exits his cock and settles, weighty inside of your womb.  

He pushes out another one, baring teeth, and closing his eyes in concentration. The egg easily joins its sibling, swimming in a sea of seed. He sighs blissfully. “That is much better.” Hanzo rubs your belly. “They will fertilize by morning, grow bigger. You will be so round, mama.”

You swallow to bring moisture back into your hoarse throat. “How do you know these things?” you ask.

“Father left behind a journal.” His fingers fan out over the expanse of your belly. Adoring, and in love with the small baby bump. “He was able to teach us, even though he is gone. I think I will do the same, for our children.” 

A journal. You had spent so many years doing your own research, sifting through the plethora of false information and fairy tales in pursuit of being as educated about them as you possibly could be, and there has been a journal written and containing information from an actual naga? If you could slap him, you would. You want to beat your fists against both of their chests.

Speaking of Genji. For a boy that you know to be restless and impatient, he has been exceedingly quiet, up until now. “My turn, Hanzo.” His voice is strained, nearly as shot as your own is.

Hanzo agrees. “Take care,” he says has he hand you over to him, “the eggs can–”

“I know this,” Genji snaps. “A lecture on being careful is unneeded.” Poor thing is pent up. Frustration painted all over his face. What is normally a cheeky but kind face is hardened and hungry as he splays you in his lap the same way Hanzo did.

Hanzo lets the attitude slide with a grunt. Too tired, far too satisfied to argue.

Genji keeps you secured with the tip of his tail wrapped around the section just below your breasts. Nothing’s slow or careful about the way he enters you. He’s all in in one fell swoop. Leans forward and holds onto the both of your tits, grips tightly as he thrusts with vigor. Intensely looks you in the eyes. He pants, you can feel his hot breath on your face. Sweat beads in his hairline. It rolls down his forehead and drips onto your lip.    

He cums loudly, his stomach convulses, his pecs flex. He whimpers, as if the pleasure felt so good it hurt. How much cum he left inside of you, you can’t tell. Can no longer feel anything but the tingling and the eggs. Genji doesn’t remove his hands from your breasts. He’s latched on, they’ll be black and blue by the time he’s done. Rather he slithers and shifts, thrusts until his egg-laying cock meets your cunt, and slips inside with ease.    

“Oh, mama, mama, mama,” he chants while he pushes. The sound of it sends electricity through your abdomen. Your face flushes from how much it affects you. The wanting and neediness in his voice is unfair and chips away at your will. Genji chokes out a one last “mama.” Your stomach rounded another inch with the inclusion of two new eggs.  

“Genji,” Hanzo yawns, “keep her elevated.” 

“I know, I know,” Genji says. Tone much more agreeable now than before. “Until the plug forms, I remember.” 

The moment’s pass. Both of the boys fondle your belly. Hanzo assures you that the venom should be wearing off soon, but does not apologize for using it in the first place, it was “necessary.” He’s not wrong. They converse about your living situation as if you’re not seated, naked, legs thrown over Genji’s shoulder and rump pressed against Genji’s stomach, his arm curled around your thighs. It’s decided that you’ll be living with them now, it’s time they took care of you.  

When they feel its time, Genji opens your legs, and Hanzo inserts two fingers inside of you, taps on something hard formed over your cervix. “It is there, we can bathe her now.”

Hanzo lifts you up bridal style. He carries you over to the onsen. Slithers in and lets the hot water do most of the work. Carefully he leans you back into the water so Genji can wash your sweat-matted hair. He takes extra special care. Scratching your scalp, massaging your temples. The water helps awaken your muscles. Your toes flex, your fingers twitch.

You’re able to hold your own head up again, even if your exhaustion makes it feel near impossible. Hanzo cradles you against his chest, gliding a hand over your back. Genji is casually speaking about how they’d like you to name the babies when they’ve hatched. He doesn’t doubt you’ll be their favorite person, just as you are theirs.

“Do you think they’ll listen to me, the way you two do?” A rhetorical question. Not meant to be funny, but they chuckle. 

You fall asleep with both eyes and hands on your belly. You admit to yourself, you like the way it feels. Smooth, hard like the pregnant bellies of friends and coworkers that allowed you to touch theirs. You’re not sure what it is, whether its the shock or the mother in you that keeps you calm. It’s certainly the mother that looks forward to the process, to being pregnant. Four little nagas, that’s a lot of work; that’s a challenge. That’s a lot of love to give and receive.


End file.
